Page 86 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

The room narrows until it’s just her breathing, the press of Ethan’s hand steady against her leg, Andrew keeping her balanced at the edge of overwhelm, all of us moving together without needing to think about it.

She’s surrounded by us completely, and instead of pulling away from the intensity of it, she sinks further into the mattress like she finally trusts herself to let go.

I stay there, letting her adjust, feeling every flutter and squeeze as Andrew keeps circling her clit in steady time with my shallow thrusts. Ethan's hand moves from her calf to rest warm and steady on the back of her thigh, anchoring her while she arches beautifully for us, her sounds growing louder and rawer.

My hand slides to her stomach without thinking. Not pressing. Just resting there, feeling the faint warmth of her skin and everything it now holds. I stopped pretending weeks ago that this was just about keeping things steady. It stopped being situational a long time ago. That's on me for not saying it sooner.

Her orgasm comes on sudden and hard, pulsing around me with a cry that goes straight down my spine. Riley’s whole body tightens beneath us. Her back arches, her breathing turning uneven as the pleasure overwhelms her hard enough to make her legs shake. I ride her through it, drawing it out until her legs tremble.

Andrew steadies her through it immediately, one hand firm against her hip while Ethan says her name softly like he’s trying to bring her back down gently instead of letting her fall.

I stay with her through every pulse, every trembling breath, overwhelmed by the realization that none of this feels temporary anymore.

Then I pull out and Andrew takes my place while I move to her side, kissing her through the aftershocks. Ethan takes her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard while he strokes himself, his free hand still resting on her thigh.

When the last wave finally fades, she collapses between us, limp and glowing.

I pull the sheet up over her. Andrew tucks himself against her back, one arm sliding around her waist like he can't stand even an inch of distance. Ethan brushes her hair off her face and presses one last kiss to her forehead.

She sighs when the fabric settles around her shoulders, turning toward Andrew's chest on instinct.

I stay where I am, watching the rise and fall of her back until her breathing evens out. My hand rests there longer than it needs to, counting breaths the way I used to count seconds before something went sideways overseas. A habit I never really broke.

The quiet doesn't feel peaceful. It feels temporary. Like the stillness before impact.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I reach for it without moving too much. The screen lights up.

Connor: Need to pick something up in my office. 5 minutes out but Sarah is waiting in the car so I can only stay for a few minutes.

My stomach drops. The kind that locks your body into position before your brain finishes processing the threat.

I stare at the words until they blur.

Three days just became right fucking now.

Chapter thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-One—Riley

I'm moving before Liam finishes reading me the text.

Navy t-shirt off. Andrew's hoodie from the chair on. Fingers dragged through my hair. Out the bedroom door in ten seconds flat.

The living room is already shifting around me.

Liam is pulling his shirt back on, unhurried but efficient, the way he does everything. Ethan appears from the hallway with his phone in hand, calm in a way that means he’s already three steps ahead of whatever comes next. Andrew stands at the kitchen counter filling a glass of water, because apparently Andrew's instinct in any crisis is to look like he was never doing anything else.

“He knows the space,” Ethan says, quiet. Not a question. Just establishing facts.

“Every corner of it,” I say. My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

“Then we don't change the corners.”

Nobody moves the couch. Nobody hides the glasses from dinner still scattered on the coffee table. But when my eyes land on the laminated pregnancy food chart still sitting on the counter, my stomach flips.

I grab it and slide it into the kitchen drawer. The prenatal vitamins go in next. Then the crackers. Each item disappears with a soft thud that feels too loud in the sudden quiet.

Liam watches me from the couch. “Better,” he says simply.